


Lay Them Bones

by MCz5



Category: Deus Ex (Video Games), Deus Ex: Human Revolution
Genre: Detroit weather, Fic and Art, M/M, Misunderstandings, basically a blanket fic, lake effect snow is nothing to fuck with, mentions of hypothermia and one of the ways to cure it, sex and feelings, the obvious one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 10:58:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14283435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MCz5/pseuds/MCz5
Summary: "Outside the weather's howling [...] Where will you lay them bones, lay them greedy bones?"So he may have misjudged when the weather would break this morning. It's not like it would be a problem. After all, his house was warm and cozy, just waiting for him to come home to it.





	Lay Them Bones

Eight pm Friday, finally. Frank stood and stretched, watching lazily as his workstation shut down in waves around him. It had been a good, slow day, despite the late hour at which he was leaving. There had been no major attempts on the firewall, no one had come to him whining about their keyboard not working or some virus they’d gotten by violating security protocols, and the coffee machine had been consistently full and fresh every time he’d ventured across the hall to the canteen. He and Jensen had even had several civil conversations over the course of the day. Well, more civil than usual; their sarcasm less biting and more, dare he say it, affectionate. He was definitely enjoying Jensen’s company more than was probably healthy.

With those computers that could be shut down turned off and those that could not safely locked, Pritchard grabbed his jacket and helmet from the couch where he’d dropped them that morning. He zipped the leather all the way to his chin as he sauntered down to the employee parking levels, tugging on his gloves before checking his helmet over out of habit along the way. It really was too late in the year to be riding his bike, especially given the clouds that had steadily gathered over the last few days, hanging low and heavy with snow. The weather wasn’t supposed to break until next week though, so he’d decided to ride in one last time before reluctantly putting his motorcycle away for the winter.

Frank cursed as he pulled out of the underground garage and onto the street. Clearly it had been too optimistic of him to trust PicusWeather’s predictions. Already there was an inch of treacherous snow on the ground and the storm showed no signs of stopping. As much as Pritchard wanted to speed home to get away from the quickly growing drifts, he knew that was a terrible idea. He'd only end up spun out under a truck that way.

The ride was miserable, taking three times as long as usual to even get out of the city. Every year, no matter their skill the previous winter, the whole of Detroit seemed to forget how to drive in snow when it first fell. Public Works was as useless as they'd always been as well; they hadn’t even begun to deploy their meagre army of plows to try and combat the growing blizzard.

Frank was shivering hard before he was even a quarter of the way home, though the shaking had stopped by the time he pulled his bike into his tiny detached garage. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that was a bad sign but lethargy pulled at him, invited him to curl up against the swiftly cooling engine of his bike and take a nap. This would be an even worse idea, so instead he activated the security in the little garage and waded across his small yard to his kitchen door. It took a few tries to enter his code, eager as he was to get inside and out of the cold, but finally the lock clicked and the door opened on frost-cracked hinges.

As soon as he stumbled in he knew something was off; it was nearly as cold inside as it had been outside. Cursing again, Pritchard stabbed the SmartHome console with numb fingers, managing to deactivate the intruder protocols and reset his security to account for his presence on autopilot. That done, however, his muddled brain couldn’t make heads or tails of the warning lights blinking angrily from the HVAC subfolder of the Utilities Maintenance section. Maybe it would make more sense after a shower.

Shedding his jacket and gloves, the frozen leather creaking with complaint as he peeled it off, Frank staggered across his small kitchen, past the living room and took a step down the short hallway to the bathroom. He fumbled briefly with the pocket door out of habit before giving up; there was no one else there to care about his nakedness anyway. The rest of his clothing made lumpy wet islands on the tiled floor and he sighed in relief. He'd begun to overheat in them, honestly.

Pritchard knelt beside the old claw foot tub and carefully twisted the taps until lukewarm water began to flow. Dipping his fingers in the stream, he hummed sleepily. If only he could trust himself to take a bath. Even as addled as he was though, he knew he'd probably only fall asleep and drown himself that way. Easing over the knee-high porcelain walls, he tugged the curtain closed and pulled the knob that would force the groaning pipes into giving him the desired spray.

Only a few minutes under the mild stream and the water began to cool. Pritchard frowned and eased the temperature up slowly, sighing happily when the boiler got the hint. Two more rounds of adjustment and the air finally began to steam up around him. He'd have to have someone come look at the whole system once the roads were clear. Now, however, his shivering had returned despite the warmth of the shower, and he reached for the taps again, rubbing at his limbs and resolving to stay under the water until his shaking stopped again.

Frank hissed in shock when he finally emerged from the shower. The air outside his warm cocoon was colder than he remembered, and he almost decided to simply spend the night in the tub. He bundled himself in towels instead, despite their chill, and forced himself the scant few feet further down the hall to his bedroom. He swiftly exchanged the towels for a pair of sweatpants, pulling on thick socks and a t-shirt as well before sliding into bed, shivering once again. He'd fix the heating in the morning, he decided, curling into a ball beneath the blankets. By then the city should have finished its initial flailing and decided what to do regarding residential snow clearance. Plus, with any luck, the neighbour kids would be willing to clear his drive for some easy cash.

Those thoughts firmly in mind, Pritchard eased into sleep, never noticing his body temperature continue to cool in the freezing room.

\--

“--sen.”

Adam blinked awake, the static click of an infolink call connecting and disconnecting in his ear. Who was pinging him in the middle of the night? His infolink crackled again.

“Jensen.”

“Pritchard?” he rasped back, even more confused.

“Jensen,” Pritchard sighed, sounding relieved but weak, his voice thready. “It’s very cold…”

The tone, the words… something was wrong. Adam sat up, tossing back his blankets and searching the floor for his clothes from the day before. “Pritchard,” he repeated, a little more urgently than before. “Are you alright? Where are you?”

“Home,” Pritchard breathed, the word barely caught by his subvocal microphone. “Hurts…”

Jensen bit back a curse, rolling off the mattress and pulling on his pants. His sleeveless turtleneck followed, and then he hesitated over his tactical gear for the barest moment. Had some enemy of Sarif’s found where Pritchard lived or was this something more mundane? He couldn’t take the chance.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded as he buckled his body armour and holsters. “Did something happen?”

“Cold…” A single word in return, and the near-whine it was delivered in was cause for alarm all on its own.

Adam stepped into his boots, then grabbed his coat and checked the pockets for his keys. Pritchard lived outside the city, so he’d need his rarely used car if the man was really at home. He opened his mouth, ready to demand more details, when he was interrupted by another soft murmur down the line.

“Adam,” Pritchard sighed, and Jensen froze; Frank never called him by his first name. “‘f I don’ make it…”

Adam’s alarm spiked further. “Wha--”

He choked off his own exclamation when Pritchard kept speaking, soft and fading more with every word.

“‘f I don’... yoo mean a lo’ t’ me…”

“Pritchard, what’s going on?” Adam growled as he tore out of his apartment, bypassing both the elevator and stairs by simply jumping down the open well between flights, the Icarus carrying him safely to the basement. Fear churned in his gut and added a dangerous edge to his voice.

“Mmm…” Pritchard’s low, dreamy sigh sent an inappropriate surge of lust down Jensen’s spine and he buried it savagely as Frank continued. “Was too scared ‘fore.... like yoo a lo’... Adam...”

“Francis,” he tried the man’s first name, hoping to get through whatever haze of defeat seemed to have fallen over Pritchard. “I’m coming over there, but I need you to keep talking to me. What’s your door code?”

“Ah,” Pritchard sighed again; Adam bit his lip hard, slamming the door of his car and gunning the engine.

“Side door…” Francis mumbled as Adam wove through the half-plowed streets of Detroit. “Yer al’dy in t’syst’m... code 3993…”

His… birthday? That was unusually direct for Pritchard. Then again, who would think Sarif’s prickly Head of Cybersecurity would even care about his co-workers’ birthdays?

Jensen kept asking questions as he sped down I-94, thankfully mostly cleared of snow, hoping to keep Pritchard awake and aware. He’d never been to Frank’s home, secretive as the man was, but the mapping system included in his neural augs directed him to the address pulled from the employee database perfectly regardless. Whatever he’d thought Pritchard’s house would look like, it wasn’t a well-preserved 1910-era bungalow with a footprint smaller than his apartment and a tiny detached garage tucked away at the back of a postage stamp yard.

Adam’s car plowed a drift of snow in front of it as he pulled haphazardly into the little yard, aiming for the driveway with no way to tell where it was under the blanket of white that covered everything. He honestly didn’t care, either. Pritchard had been silent for several minutes now, and a sense of dread had settled at the base of Adam’s throat at the thought of what could have happened to him.

“Francis, talk to me,” he demanded, the threat in his tone aimed at everyone but the man on the other end of the infolink. “Where are you? Are you in bed?”

Still no answer. Shit.

Wading through the snow to the back door, as he’d been directed, Jensen activated his thermal vision. A quick scan of what appeared to be Pritchard's kitchen showed nothing terribly out of place and no hostiles in range. No heat signatures at all, in fact. Turning the augment back off, Adam swiftly entered the code Pritchard had given him into the lock panel, only half expecting it to work. Thankfully, it beeped a welcome at him and he wrenched the door open, stepping up into the house on silent feet.

“Jesus…”

Adam swore under his breath as the door snapped shut behind him. The house was nearly as cold inside as the night outside. His breath fogged in the air and he shot a glance towards the SmartHome on the wall, eyeing the line of lights that indicated malfunctioning systems.

“Francis?” he called anxiously, worry ratcheting up another notch when he still received no answer.

He flipped his thermoptics on again and did a quick sweep of the small house. The figure he found sprawled across the messy bed registered far dimmer than anyone he’d ever looked at. His vision returned to normal only to show him exactly what he feared and he reached out with shaking hands. “Oh god, Francis…”

Pritchard was spread haphazardly across his mattress, clad only in a pair of sweatpants that had twisted up around his knees. His blankets and the socks he must have worn to bed had both clearly been kicked off, and there was a t-shirt loosely clutched in one hand, also removed in sleep. His skin was faintly cast in blue and, when Adam ran his hands across too-pale shoulders, far too cold for comfort.

“Francis,” he repeated, leaning closer as his fingers sought out a pulse, weak at the side of Pritchard’s neck. “Wake up. Please.”

As much as Jensen wanted to have a look at the SmartHome, to see if the heating system needed only a simple fix to start working again, getting Pritchard warm was his top priority. A quick glance around the room showed there was nothing he could use to heat the space. There had been a fireplace in the living room but he was loathe to move Frank any more than necessary, especially without knowing if the hearth was even clean and functional. No use in saving Pritchard from hypothermia only to kill him with carbon monoxide or set the house on fire.

Judging by the towels on the floor, Frank had already had either a hot bath or shower and Jensen didn't particularly want to get him wet again. He couldn’t even drive them back to his apartment. The roads had been bad enough on the way over, and with the snow falling even heavier now, they’d only be in a worse situation if his car died in a drift out on the highway. That left one last option, reluctant as he was to pursue it. The thought of Pritchard freezing to death spurred him to action, though.

Jensen shed his coat, draping it over Frank to begin the warming process with his residual body heat while he stripped himself of his weapons and armour. His boots were next, dropped haphazardly to the floor as he crawled onto Pritchard’s mattress, straddling his prone body. Adam pulled off his own shirt as well, tossing his coat off the end of the bed now that its purpose had been served. He gathered Pritchard up gently, straightening the man’s tangled sweatpants and wrestling his own skin-warm turtleneck over Frank’s head, pulling his unresisting limbs through the armholes.

Snagging the abandoned duvet, Adam rolled onto his back, draping Francis over himself and tucking the blankets around them both. He folded Pritchard’s hands between their chests, rubbing his own down Frank’s chilly arms and gently massaging the skin there as he turned his focus inward. With barely a thought, augmentation submenus unfolded across his HUD. Forcing the Sentinel to raise his core body temperature wasn’t hard, but the transfer of heat would still take too long, in his opinion. With an eye on his energy levels, Jensen pushed a few of his other augs into overload, carefully venting the excess heat through his synthetic skin. That done, he returned his focus to the man in his arms, carding a hand through Pritchard’s unbound hair with a sigh.

It wasn’t that Adam had an aversion to being half-naked in bed with Frank - far from it, in fact - but he couldn’t help wishing it was under better circumstances. He’d been trying to gauge Pritchard’s interest in him over the last few weeks, slipping genuine compliments into their conversations and supplementing their usual banter with veiled flirtations. Now he would have to start all over. There was no way Pritchard wouldn’t pull away when he eventually woke up to find himself cuddled into his coworker’s chest. Adam would just have to savor this as long as it lasted.

After an hour or so, Frank began to shiver on his own again and Jensen relaxed a fraction in response. Pulling open the menus on his HUD again, Jensen turned off his overloaded augments and let his batteries begin to recharge. Their little bubble of warmth plus his own Sentinel-elevated body temperature would be enough now that Pritchard had survived the most dangerous stages of hypothermia.

“Adam…” Francis sighed shakily into Jensen’s throat, causing his breath to catch. “‘m cold…”

“I know,” he murmured back, running his hands up and down Frank’s back soothingly. “I’m here though. You don’t have to worry.”

“Than’s… lov’ yoo…”

Adam’s heart stuttered and he had to force himself not to jostle Francis in surprise. A weak chuckle escaped him and he turned his head to press a soft kiss to Pritchard’s forehead. He wished he could believe what Frank was saying, but it was probably just the delusional mutterings of an overtaxed mind. Chances were he wouldn’t even remember he’d said it in the morning. Still…

“Love you too, Francis,” Adam whispered in return, his bittersweet smile smothered with another kiss laid on Pritchard’s cool skin.

A contented grumble and Frank relaxed back into sleep despite the tremors that still wracked his body. Easing himself into a half-doze, Adam settled in to wait out the rest of the night, holding Francis to himself as tightly as he dared.

\--

Warmth was the first thing that registered to Pritchard as he reluctantly pulled himself awake. Warmth and the feeling of someone else beneath him, well-defined arms wrapped around his waist and back, and his face pressed into a strong neck. He blinked heavy lids open, confusion pushing through his lethargic contentment, to find a sharp jaw covered in a familiar beard filling his vision.

“Jensen..?” Frank slurred, tongue thick with sleep.

“You’re awake then?” Adam murmured back.

The body under him shifted, the blankets that made up their sanctuary opening to let in a blast of chilly air. “No, don’t-!” he protested, hands tightening reflexively where they clutched hard muscle. “It… it’s cold.”

Jensen stopped trying to move away, resettling the blankets around them. Pritchard used the moment to orient himself, casting his mind over the last evening to try and figure out how they’d gotten to this point. He’d gone home after work and it’d been snowing. He’d been cold when he’d arrived but the heating had gone out. He’d taken a shower and gone to bed still cold. So…. 

“Uh,” his tongue stumbled over the words he could hardly believe he needed to ask, “why are you here?”

“You don’t remember?” Adam raised his eyebrow, hand smoothing absently down Pritchard’s spine.

Arching into the motion with a small sigh, Frank froze when their positions finally, actually, registered. He was laying sprawled across Jensen’s bare chest, wearing a different shirt than the one he fell asleep in. That was awkward, but he was still cold and Jensen was generating a lot of heat. 

“You called me last night. Insisted I come over,” Adam continued, as though there was absolutely nothing unusual about their current situation.

“I-I did?” Frank could feel his cheeks warm and cursed himself as he stuttered again. “I don’t-- I mean, what did I say?”

Jensen’s eyebrow ticked higher and he chuckled. “That you were cold.”

“What?” Pritchard frowned, leaning back to get a better view of Adam’s face. “Why the hell would I call about that?”

“You tell me,” Jensen’s smile twitched a little wider, soft at the edges as he eyed Francis back. “You called me complaining about being cold until I came over. I know your furnace is broken and I have augments to control my body temperature, but I can’t be your replacement heater.”

_‘Why not?'_ was on the tip of his tongue, but he bit it down. Instead, he fell back on his usual defensiveness.

“What? I did not call. Even if I did, I refuse to believe that that was my reason. Now,” Frank huffed, starting to sit up until Adam’s arm tightened around his waist, “why did you really come and why are you in my bed?”

“I told you,” Jensen chuckled again, “you kept complaining about the cold.”

Frank wrinkled his nose and tried to sit up again. This time Jensen let him, making sure the blankets stayed tucked around his shoulders, sighing at his expression. Adam’s voice dropped to a husky whisper. “Alright. You want the truth?”

Pritchard’s eyes widened and he nodded, swallowing when Jensen rose up on his elbows and leaned closer, breath brushing Frank’s cheek. “You were whining about being cold.”

“Jensen!”

The words were so at odds with both the tone Adam spoke them in and the expectations Frank had that it startled a laugh out of him. Jensen grinned back, watching silently with an unexpectedly fond look in his eye. Pritchard sobered when he noticed it. That was definitely not a casual gaze; nothing about this was casual.

“O-okay,” he cleared his throat, looking down as his blush flared anew and then regretting it immediately. Right, Jensen was shirtless. Focus. “Why are you still in my bed, then?”

Jensen’s eyebrow ticked up again as he settled back into the pillows, still smiling. “I tried to get up a minute ago, but someone told me not to. Something about it being cold.”

Frank just stared. The image of Adam Jensen lounging comfortably, half-naked in his bed, was one he’d never fully considered to be possible and yet, here it was, spread below him. Sure they’d been closer recently, and sure Frank lo--liked him, but there were things he’d never let himself believe would ever happen and this was one of them.

“Well?” Jensen startled him out of his daze, head tilted curiously.

Pritchard cleared his throat, brow furrowed again. “Well what?”

“Well, if you don’t want me here, why haven’t you kicked me out yet?”

That… was a good question. Frank faltered. “I… don’t know…” he whispered.

“Hmm?”

Jensen leaned back up, stomach muscles contracting enticingly as his arm wound around Pritchard’s waist again, holding him close. Frank’s heart rate sped up and he licked his lips nervously, mouth dry.

“I…”

Adam smiled, warm and open. His free hand came up to slide along Frank’s jaw, thumb just grazing the corner of his mouth. On reflex, his tongue darted out to catch it, and Adam’s gaze turned hot in an instant. Frank barely had time to register it before Jensen leaned in and pressed their lips together.

It was like a switch flipped in his brain. Pritchard surged forward, pushing Adam back into the pillows and deepening the kiss aggressively as he practically crawled up Jensen’s body. His hands roamed across hard muscle, finally allowed to touch. He could feel Adam do the same; sleek, warm metal slipping into his hair and under his borrowed shirt to caress the skin beneath. Frank shuddered, breaking the kiss to gasp into Adam’s jaw when those fingers rolled over the sensitive jut of his hipbone. Jensen didn’t let him go far, mouthing hotly at Pritchard’s neck and pulling a hoarse groan from the flushed throat beneath his lips.

Frank tossed his leg over Adam’s lap, aligning their bodies and tilting his head back as Jensen licked at his jaw. His hands weren’t idle either, smoothing over both augment and flesh, nails scraping whenever Adam sucked particularly hard. Francis found the tight bud of a nipple and tweaked it, relishing the feel of augmented hands squeezing him tighter. Jensen’s teeth closed over his collarbone and Frank ground down with a wanton moan.

“Wow,” Adam rasped, both hands grabbing Frank’s hips, steadying him. “I had a feeling you wanted me here for more than just my ability heat a room, but I never guessed it was this.”

“O-oh,” Pritchard stilled, embarrassment adding a fresh dose of red to his cheeks. “I didn’t… Y-you don’t..?”

Shit. How had he read the situation so wrong? Jensen had seemed enthusiastic enough, but maybe he didn’t want this, had only meant… well, it didn’t matter now. Ashamed, Frank tried to pull back, but Adam tugged him closer.

“I do,” he rumbled in Francis’ ear, nudging the curve of it intimately with his nose. “What I want to know is what you were going to do about it.”

Pritchard was silent, overwhelmed by the rapid turn of his emotions. Adam’s fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his sweatpants and Frank clutched at his shoulders in return.

“No suggestions?” Jensen hummed, amused, into his throat. “Well, do you want to know what I want?”

He managed a shaky nod, twitching restlessly as he felt Jensen smile against his skin. Adam nosed at his ear again, hot breath sending another shiver down Frank’s spine. “Good,” Jensen growled, suddenly fierce. “Here’s what I want.”

Adam hauled Pritchard down against him, letting Francis feel the full evidence of his arousal. “I want to fuck you like an animal.”

Frank cried out at the statement and sudden stimulation both, rocking down instinctively. Recovering his breath, he arched up and stripped off the soft, loose shirt that must have been Jensen’s, rubbing his erection harder against the one beneath him. Adam’s harsh exhale was music to his ears, and Frank used his distraction to slither free of the hands at his hips. He licked his way down Adam’s chest, nipping at the skin stretched thin over the augment chassis crossing Jensen’s sternum and earning a shuddering sigh from above. Frank rolled his tongue over one peaked nipple, fingers flicking teasingly at the other as Adam slipped one hand back into his hair, drawing it up and off his face.

Jensen hissed when Frank’s tongue dipped into his navel, abdominals contracting as he instinctively curled up at the sensation. The hand in Pritchard’s hair tightened, tugged a little, the other clutching restlessly in the sheets at his side. Frank muffled his moan in the skin at the edge of Adam’s leg augments, high on his hip, and slid his hands lower.

_“Francisss…”_

His name was little more than a growl in Jensen’s throat as Pritchard palmed the bulge straining the front of the heavy canvas slacks. Panting, Frank looked up as he slipped the buttons of the fly and, under Adam’s burning stare, hooked his fingers in the waistband of both trousers and briefs and tugged them down. Fabric clear, Pritchard paused to admire the view, licking his lips absently. Jensen tugged again lightly, impatiently, at his hair, and Francis shot him a smirk before he leaned down and took the head of Adam’s cock into his mouth.

Jensen groaned, long and low, and his other hand untangled from the sheets to stroke along Pritchard’s cheekbone. Frank’s own hands slid back up synthetic thighs to where augment gave way to natural flesh, caressing the sensitive skin briefly before moving inwards, one curling around the base of Adam’s erection and the other cupping his sack, massaging firm testicles with nimble fingers.

_“Fuck.”_

Jensen sucked in a sharp breath and Francis hummed in response, tongue curling as he took more of Adam into the hot cavern of his mouth. He started slow, an easy bob as he learned what made the body beneath him twitch and shudder. Adam’s thumb pressed at the corner of Pritchard’s mouth, slipped between his lips to slide along his teeth as the other hand pulled at his hair, urged him faster.

Frank let Adam set the pace for a moment before slowing again, grey eyes flashing amusement at the rough snarl he pulled from Jensen’s mouth. Saliva dripped, slick between his fingers, as Adam bucked up impatiently, shoving the head of his cock deeper into Pritchard’s throat. Francis swallowed around it reflexively, and Adam tugged him off a second later, dragging him up and into a heady kiss, tongue chasing the taste of himself from Pritchard’s mouth.

“You’re too good at that,” he growled against Frank’s lips, flipping them so he could pin the slighter man against the bed.

“J-jealous, Jensen?” Francis gasped back, one leg winding around Adam’s waist, rolling his hips up in search of friction.

“Of anyone else who’s had your mouth?” Adam hooked an arm under his knee, lifting the leg higher as he ground down, pulling a choked groan from Frank’s throat. _“Yes.”_

Pritchard scrabbled to hold on as Jensen claimed his mouth again and continued to rock down against him, only the thin cotton of Frank’s sweatpants separating their erections. One hand found its way into the short hairs at the back of Adam’s neck as the other scored ineffectually down the synthetic skin of his arm. Adam’s free hand slid beneath Francis to lift him into the thrusts, flexing in the lean muscle of Pritchard’s ass.

_“Ah! Ah-d-dam..!”_

Frank broke the kiss with a cry, shuddering as the sensations pulsed through him. Jensen backed off, panting as though he’d just run the whole length of Detroit to get to where they were, hips still moving shallowly as he worked them both down from the edge. Teeth scraped high on Frank’s neck, Adam’s voice rumbling like thunder in his ear.

“Tell me, Francis. If you don’t want this I’ll stop right here, right now.” A squeeze of his ass was accompanied by another slow grind. “But if you do, you’re _mine.”_

Pritchard whined, arching up even as he tilted his head back to bare more of his throat. _“Please…”_

Adam groaned, holding himself up and away from the temptation in his arms. “Yes or no, Francis...”

_“Yesss…”_

The agreement dropped into a hiss when Jensen bit down, marking Frank’s throat possessively as he laid a trail down flushed skin to suck a collar of bruises along his clavicle. It was nothing that Pritchard wouldn’t be able to hide come Monday morning, but the knowledge that they were there, that Adam had laid claim on his skin, sent another shiver through his body. Adam’s mouth canted into a grin against Frank’s chest, tongue snaking out to flick against a pebbled nipple. Francis arched up, another stuttered cry falling from his throat when Jensen worried the hard nub with his teeth.

Frank twisted under Adam’s lips as he switched sides, the hand in Jensen’s hair uncurling to stroke through the short strands, his other clawing down Adam’s arm to tangle their fingers together in the sheets. Lowering Francis’ leg, Jensen continued kissing down his stomach, nipping at the quivering muscles and burying a groan in the soft trail of hair that led teasingly downwards. He squeezed Pritchard's fingers gently before extracting his hand, easing the worn sweatpants off and tossing them carelessly from the bed.

“God you’re beautiful,” Adam muttered into Frank’s hip, kneading the flesh of his thighs with sleek black fingers.

Francis keened, his own hands fisting in Adam’s hair as he settled between Frank’s legs. Humming in satisfaction, Jensen eyed Pritchard’s hard flesh hungrily before leaning in to suck away the drop of precome beaded at the tip. Frank’s breath stuttered and his body curled up instinctively when Adam slipped a hot tongue beneath his foreskin, one hand wrapping around his erection and tugging the skin down to expose his cockhead.

Jensen pinned his hips when they rocked up, laying his arm across Pritchard’s pelvis and drawing another moan from his throat at the heavy weight holding him to the bed. It didn’t stop him from wrapping his legs around augmented shoulders, heels pressing into Adam’s spine as Jensen set feather-light kisses up and down his shaft. Gentle nips were soothed with rough swipes of a tongue, Adam’s hand stroking counterpoint to shallow bobs into the wet heat of his mouth. Frank writhed under the attention, shaky cries filling the room that was heating rapidly under their combined elevated body temperatures. He hardly noticed when the hand left his erection until spit-slick fingers nudged at his entrance, pressing slowly inside and working him open with practiced care.

“Adam…” Pritchard whined, muscles quivering as he fought to hold out against the concentrated assault to his senses. “You _-ah!-_ p-promised…”

“What did I promise, Francis?” Adam asked, licking teasingly at his flushed cock, voice more sensation than sound as it seemed to echo up through his skin.

“Ffff _-ah!-_ fuuuck..!” he panted, trying to force the words out around the moans Jensen was pulling from him. _“Fuck me, Adam!”_

Adam hummed again, tongue pressed against his slit, three fingers pushed knuckle deep inside. Frank nearly sobbed with pleasure, tugging at Jensen’s hair, muscles straining as he was drawn ever closer to the edge.

_“Please!”_

“Since you asked so nicely...” The fingers eased out as Adam muffled a rough laugh in the soft skin of Francis’ thigh. A hard, sucking kiss just below his navel brought blood rushing to the surface; his sensitive cock twitching against Jensen’s stubbled jaw forced another tremulous cry from his throat. Adam twisted out from between Pritchard’s legs to loom over him, lust burning augmented irises a glowing green in the dim morning light. “Turn over.”

Sleek black hands helped him as he complied, limbs quivering, before one pressed gently but firmly between his shoulderblades while the other drew his hips up from the sheets. Frank groaned, clutching desperately at the rumpled fabric under his face as Adam gripped his hips with eager fingers, erection rubbing teasingly between his cheeks.

_“Fucking gorgeous.”_

Jensen bent over his back, biting kisses up the prominent knobs of Pritchard's spine, still rutting shallowly against his ass and murmuring praise into his skin as Frank panted breathlessly into the mattress.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this. Wanted you. You're goddamn perfect, Francis. Just absolutely _fff-!”_

Adam broke off with a hiss as his tip caught the edge of Pritchard's hole, hips stuttering as he slipped just the barest bit inside. They both groaned as Jensen slowly pushed in further, stretching Frank open around him.

_“Ah! Adammm…”_

Jensen answered his whine with a growl as he drew back out, fingers dragging down the long expanse of Frank’s back to curl around his waist possessively. A slow roll of hips, then another slightly faster, and Pritchard stuttered his name again. Jensen answered by picking up his pace, teeth bared against the soft shell of an ear.

“That’s right,” he panted, one hand sliding back up Frank’s chest to curl over the opposite shoulder, thumb dragging along the flushed skin of Pritchard’s collarbone. _“You’re mine now, Francis.”_

He cried out, back arched as Adam pressed in as deep as he could, driving harder as their lust flared. Francis reached for himself, aching for touch.

_“No,”_ Adam rumbled, nearly a snarl as he caught both wrists in a hand, pulling them up over Pritchard’s head and stretching him further across the messy sheets. “I want to see you come like this. Tell me Francis, is my cock in your ass enough to get you off?”

Pritchard moaned loudly as Adam continued to rock into him, the change in angle hitting just right. “Y-y-yesss Adaaamm… ghh-- _oh god..!”_

“You feel so good,” Jensen muttered into his shoulder, seemingly unable to stop talking. “So good and all mine. So fucking hot, Francis; feel like you were made just for me the way you take me so well.”

Pritchard shuddered, pressing back into the hot body above him, tugging instinctively at the grip around his wrists. _“Adam!_ I’m so cl- _close…!”_

“Not yet.” Jensen growled, stopping suddenly, still buried to the hilt, drawing a gasping whine from Frank’s throat. Any attempt to move was halted by the arm wrapped around his chest, holding him tight. Adam ground into him in tiny circles, rasping questions around nips and kisses along his skin. “First you gotta choose… you want it in you? Want me to claim you from the inside out? Or across your back? Paint your skin up so nice…”

One slow drag out, then in, mirrored by the slide of a hot tongue along his fluttering pulse. “Tell me what you want, Francis.”

“I-i-i-inside,” Pritchard nearly sobbed. “I want you to cum inside me Adam.” His back arched eagerly, urging Jensen deeper. “Fill me up, d-don't spill a drop.”

Adam snarled, releasing Frank's wrists to wrap himself fully around the tech, hips snapping with bruising force as the hand at his shoulder tipped Frank's head back to kiss him sloppily. The angle proved too much for Pritchard; he cried out into Adam's mouth as he came, cock jerking sporadically and splashing hot cum across the sheets. Adam groaned as Frank came undone; the sight combined with the feeling of the lean body beneath him squeezing tightly around his own flesh pushed him over the edge as well. He managed two more hard thrusts before he pressed as close as he could and released himself deep into Francis’ willing body.

For several moments, the only sounds were that of their combined panting, each heaving in air as they slowly drifted back to reality. “Holy shit,” Pritchard gasped, raising a shaking hand to push his sweat-damp hair from his face.

Adam hummed in agreement, forehead pressed between Frank’s shoulder blades. He smoothed one hand down Pritchard’s side, lingering at his hip. “You okay?”

“Are you planning on moving any time soon?” Francis asked in lieu of answering, a shadow of his usual bite in his voice.

Jensen gave a breathy laugh that broke into a soft groan as he eased himself from Frank’s warm body. He couldn’t keep his hands off of Pritchard; rolling to his back, pulling Francis with him, drawing the blankets back up over them both despite the heavy flush still present on Pritchard’s skin. “How are you feeling?” Adam tried again.

“Rather relaxed,” Frank replied, a faint smile on his lips before they tipped into a frown.

Jensen’s brow furrowed in response, one hand stroking down Frank’s spine as the other sought to curl their fingers together. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing,” Frank denied reflexively, dropping his gaze rather than looking Adam in the face.

He didn’t pull away however, even arching slightly into the gentle petting. Adam waited him out in uncertain silence, tugging Frank as close as he dared and savoring the contact. Finally Pritchard gathered himself enough to speak again. “What was this, Jensen?”

“Some damn good sex, I thought,” Adam replied, a little defensively before concern pushed forward again. “Was it-- I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He pulled back just enough to give another quick check of Pritchard’s body, wincing at the bruises he could see already beginning to darken pale skin.

Francis huffed impatiently, drawing Jensen’s attention back from his concerned inspection. “No, I meant-- this wasn’t--” he cut himself off with a little growl of frustration, though he was still tucked into Adam’s side, clasping their fingers together tightly as he forced out the rest of his questions. “You didn’t just come over for… for that, did you? Just to get it out of your system or whatever?”

Adam sucked in a sharp breath, pulling his hand away from Frank’s only to tip his chin up to meet his eyes. “Francis,” he murmured, thumb rubbing gently along Pritchard’s sharp jaw, “Of course not. I came over last night because I was seriously worried about you. Your call… you didn’t sound very good and I-- I needed to see that you were okay with my own eyes. And... you weren’t. You were hypothermic. Pretty close to the point of no return, too.”

Adam swallowed thickly, hand dropping away again as he remembered just how cold Pritchard had been the night before when Adam had found him. Jensen smiled a little, bittersweet and self-deprecating. “Well, body heat was the best and safest method I had to warm you on such short notice. Plus,” he added as Frank tensed and prepared to shift away, “I’ve always had a bit of a thing for you. I thought--” He stopped short, smile cracking and falling away as Pritchard remained stiff in and silent his arms.

When Francis didn’t reply to that revelation for nearly a full minute, just staring back at him with an unreadable look on his face, Adam felt his heart sink. His own expression blanked and he began to extract himself from their too-comfortable embrace.

“You asshole,” Pritchard caught his arm before he could roll away. “You can’t just--”

“I know,” Jensen interrupted with a grimace. Clearly Pritchard didn’t feel the same - his words the night before were just the cold talking, like he’d feared - but that didn’t mean Adam wanted to hear him say it out loud. “I’m sor--”

Francis cut him off in return, raising himself up on one elbow to slap a hand over Adam’s mouth with a glare. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Jensen stilled, closing his eyes in resignation. Frank had every right to be upset and Adam would accept whatever punishment he decided to deal out. The hand left his face and Jensen tensed for the punch he was sure was incoming. Instead, after another few shaky breaths, Pritchard leaned down and pressed a hard kiss to his mouth, gentling only when Adam recovered enough to respond.

Francis broke away first, collapsing to lay across Jensen’s chest and press his forehead to one augmented shoulder. “Just my luck,” he muttered into Adam’s skin. “It just figures that I’d fall in love with an idiot like you.”

Jensen jerked in surprise and then settled again, arms coming up to wrap tightly around Pritchard. “Sorry,” he hid his smile in Frank’s hair, nuzzling gently behind one soft ear, “but at least this idiot loves you too.”


End file.
